Let's Bet
by phoebe9509
Summary: A bet between Hotch and Prentiss leads to an interesting time


Hotch and Emily had been dating for several months now. They somehow managed to keep it a secret from the rest of the team. They wanted it to be their little secret. They took a trip to Atlantic City one weekend just the two of them. They decided to go down to the poker machines and enjoy themselves before dinner. Hotch knew he had a good thing going with what the machine dealt him. Hotch grinned at Emily knowing he was about to win some money. She looked over at him, "Not bad, but don't count your money just yet."

"I'm not." His finger poised over the deal button, he said, "I know it's a long shot, but how about a bargain. If this doesn't come in, you are mine to do with what I wish for an hour before we go to bed."

"Okay, and if it does you have to buy me the best dinner in town with all your winnings." Emily countered.

"Done," Hotch said, pressing the button. The seven of clubs became a jack of diamonds. "Ah, at least I have a paying pair."

They played for another half an hour, had a few good hands, and finally cashed in and headed for the elevators having lost about ten dollars between them for the evening. "Nightcap?" Hotch asked.

"Nah. I had three of those delicious Bloody Mary's at the machine. I'm a bit tipsy as it is."

Hotch pushed the elevator button and said, "You know you owe me an hour of servitude."

"Huh?" Emily said.

"You mean you've forgotten our bet? The royal flush earlier?"

"Oh right. I didn't really think you were serious."

As the elevator doors opened, Hotch glared at Prentiss. "I most certainly was serious." He remembered a story he had read once and decided to make it comes true. "I changed my mind. I don't care whether you want a nightcap or night. You're mine now for the next hour and I get to call the shots." Hotch pushed the button that would take them to the restaurant floor.

Emily grinned and shrugged. "Whatever you say, sir."

They arrived at the bar and made their way to a small table in the corner. Hotch ordered two Bloody Mary's. As the waiter left, Hotch said, "Go into the ladies room and remove your bra and panties and bring them to me."

"What?" Emily gasped. Their sex play had frequently been delightfully creative, but this was a new twist.

"You heard me. Just do it."

"But—"

"Welshing on a bet?"

"No, but…" Emily was wearing a light, knit tank top and a flowing print skirt. The casino was always well air conditioned, so she had brought a long a sweater.

Hotch raised an eyebrow, and Emily, never one to back down from anything, she stood up and walked to the ladies room. In a stall she removed her pink satin and lace bra, pulled her tank top back on over her breasts and tightly erect nipples. She removed her light pink satin panties and put both garmets in her purse. Then she walked from the stall and looked at her barely concealed body in the mirror. Quickly, she put on her sweater and, blushing slightly, returned to the table.

As she approached, Hotch could read the arousal on her face. He looked around. There were several couples talking quietly, and a waiter and barman in conversation at the other side of the room. Before Emily could sit down in the chair opposite him, he said, "Take off that sweater."

"Hotc—"

"Do as I say," he hissed, getting a charge out of her slight embarrassment. "You're always a bit prim, except in the bedroom, of course." To Hotch, Emily really did seem to be two different people. In public she was properly dressed and made up, but in the bedroom she was an experimenter and wonderfully aggressive partner. As he thought back, Hotch realized that this was a first time he'd ever "been in charge." "I won that bet fair and square. You promised."

"But there are other people here."

"We haven't been here before and we probably won't be back for a few more months."

"But…"

To Hotch's again raised eyebrow, Emily slowly removed her sweater. Hotch looked at her body, his cock hardening in his pants at the sight of her large breasts revealed quite clearly through her light tank top. "When you sit down, I want you to pull up your skirt so your bare ass is on the chair. You can do that subtly so no one else knows what you're doing."

Emily sat down, arranging her skirt as she had been told. "That's cold," she said. She leaned over and added in a whisper. "And I'm so wet. This feels really weird."

"If you like you can put one of these napkins between you and the chair."

"No thanks."

The waiter arrived and put their drinks on the table. "Do you have anything to nibble on?" Hotch asked. "You used to have those delicious bread sticks."

"We still do sir," the waiter said. "I'll get you some."

As he left, Hotch told Emily, "Give me your underwear."

Slowly, Emily removed her bra and panties from her purse and surreptitiously handed them to Hotch under the table. As she saw the waiter fill a wicker basket with bread sticks, she watched Hotch spread the garments on the table. Horrified but fascinated by this new role her man was playing, she watched the waiter walk toward the table. As the waiter held the basket out, Hotch pointed to the crotch of Emily's panties, spread on the white linen tablecloth. "Right here," he said, tapping the wisp of satin.

The waiter looked at the pink satin, then at Emily. "Certainly, sir," he said, his expression unchanged. "Whatever you say." Hew put the basket on Emily's panties.

Hotch handed him a twenty dollar bill. "We'd like two glasses of water too."

Not knowing what else to do, Emily sipped her drink as the waiter poured two glasses of water at the bar and returned to the table. Hotch tapped his finger on her pink lacy bra and the waiter put one glass of water on each cup. "Thank you," Hotch said.

"Yes, sir," the waiter said and, seeming reluctant, left. Emily watched him quickly approach the barman and whisper to him. The two men looked in her direction and laughed.

"Now," Hotch said, "scoot your chair around here next to me." There were only two chairs at the tiny table, so Emily was easily able to move besides him, now facing the water and barman across the room. Hotch pulled up her skirt and reached one finger into her now-sopping pussy. She spread her legs farther apart. He found her hard clit and rubbed until Emily's hips could hardly hold still.

"Stop that," Emily said, barely able to catch her breath. "Stop."

"What did you say?" Hotch asked, rubbing more quickly. "You have nothing to say here. Sit quietly until I tell you to do something."

With shaking hands, Emily took another sip of her drink.

While Emily, the waiter, and the barman watched, Hotch opened a package of bread sticks and withdrew a long, slender rod. "Tip your pelvis up. Do it!" As she moved, Hotch broke the rod in half with obvious flourish, then reached under the table. Before Emily could protest, he inserted the stick into her cunt. Then he resumed rubbing her clit. "You know," he said, "if you come, everyone will see. And hear, probably, since you don't climax quietly."

Emily was almost overwhelmed by the sensations. Hotch's finger rubbed her clit, and the bread stick stroked the walls of her hot passage. Hotch moved the bread stick in and out of her repeatedly. Quickening his pace then slowing it down.

"Unzip my pants," Hotch hissed, "and fuck my prick with your hand."

Unable to resist, Emily did as he instructed. She held his rigid cock, sliding her hand up and down the long, thick shaft. "Look over there," Hotch said, indicating the two employees, now watching the activities with undisguised pleasure. "They can see what we're doing. They know."

As she rubbed, Emily watched the waiter, hidden from the view of any of the other patrons, unzip his pants and take out his cock. "Look," Hotch said. "He's jacking off. I bet he's imagining it's your hand." Soon the pressure became too much, and he hissed, "I'm going to fill your hand with my come baby." And he did.

Then, only a moment later, as she watched the waiter climax, Emily came, biting her tongue to keep from crying out.

After a few minutes of silence, Hotch rezipped his pants and removed the bread stick from Emily's pussy. As Emily rearranged her clothing and put her underwear into her purse, the waiter reappeared. "Thank you, sir." He said, placing Hotch's money back on the table. "Thank you very much for the entertainment.

"Thank her," Hotch said. "She's my inspiration."

The waiter looked at Emily. "And mine." He winked then walked back to the bar. Hotch looked at his watch. "It has been an hour, so you have paid off your wager."

"Funny," Emily said smiling. "I thought the bet was for two hours."

Hotch grinned. "Maybe it was."


End file.
